


Childhood Folklore

by Cumberbatch Critter (ivelostmyspectacles)



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Fear, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Phobias, Thunder and Lightning, Thunderstorms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-02
Updated: 2014-08-02
Packaged: 2018-02-11 12:08:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2067621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivelostmyspectacles/pseuds/Cumberbatch%20Critter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <b>If Merlin was afraid of thunderstorms...</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Thunder echoed throughout the town and Merlin flinched reflexively; he saw, literally <i>saw, </i>the comprehension dawn on Arthur's face.</p>
<p>"Wait." Arthur stopped, looking at him intently before laughing. "Are you... are you <i>actually afraid </i>of <i>thunderstorms?"</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Childhood Folklore

**Author's Note:**

> I realise that this isn't canon... there's lots of thunderstorms in Camelot and we even see Merlin during a few of them. But, like with my writing sickfics, I also seem to enjoy making people afraid of thunderstorms. It happens.

"Could things be _possibly_ worse?"

Merlin could think of a lot of things, actually, but none that he wanted to voice out loud. Instead, he rubbed his hands together and wrapped his arms around himself, sinking back against the wall.

"How did we end up here, anyway? How could have I been so stupid?" Arthur stopped pacing the length of the cell as he looked around at Merlin. "It was you, wasn't it? _You_ did something stupid and got us both locked in here."

Merlin hadn't, but he didn't have the ambition to complain. The truth of the matter was that they were scouting a supposedly abandoned mining town and ended up falling directly into a trap, one that ended with him and Arthur now locked up in an approximately eight by eight cell. There was no chance for escape until Arthur was down for the count, which seemed like it would be never at this stage of his pacing, and even then, Merlin hadn't thought of a good explanation for how the door suddenly was unlocked. He would think of something.

"I suppose the one good bit about this is that the Knights expected both of us back in Abergël at nightfall, so they'll know something happened when we don't make the rendezvous." Arthur sighed, rubbing his eyes. "I just don't understand what they _want_. Camelot has no quarrel with them."

Merlin could think of a few reasons, one mainly being that increased trade had been the reason that these mines had been abandoned, or that a kingdom would pay richly for a ransom on their King. There would be no repercussions because they would be gone before Camelot could even prepare an attack, with or without the ransom.

Instead of pointing that or any of the countless other reasons why (such as: because this always happens to us, you clotpole.), Merlin drew his legs up to his chest and pressed his forehead against his kneecaps. In the very far distance, he could hear a rumble. It wasn't coming from his stomach. It was coming from the sky, from all around, from the clouds and the atmosphere. There was a storm on its way; Merlin had seen the storm clouds on the way here.

"You're loads of advice, Merlin. Thank you for your invaluable counsel," Arthur said sarcastically, interrupting Merlin from his thoughts.

Merlin lifted his head slightly, peering up towards the blonde with what was he hoped was an obvious tone of question in his eyes.

"Have you gone mute today, Merlin? If so, tell me what they did to you so I can do it more often." Arthur sighed and sank down next to him, resting his head back against the wall. "Perhaps I was too hasty in my decision to observe the village on my own."

"Perhaps," Merlin said dully, his ears straining to capture the sound of thunder in the distance even though he wanted nothing more than to block it out entirely.

"‘Perhaps’?" Arthur turned his head, opening his eyes. "‘Perhaps’ is the best you can do? What is _wrong_ with you today, Merlin?"

Merlin tilted his head towards Arthur. "Would you prefer it if I agreed with you and called you a clot-pole to your face?"

"No," Arthur retorted. He paused, frowning. "Well, I don't know. There's something not-right about this." He gestured towards Merlin. "There's something off."

Merlin raised his eyebrows.

Arthur made a face before turning away again. "I crave your silence at any time except when you actually _are_ silent."

Merlin placed his chin back on his knees. "... That makes _no_ sense."

"I know," Arthur said absently, like he didn't honestly care or as if he couldn't understand it himself.

Merlin laughed to himself. Soft noise trickled into his brain, something that wasn't either of them living or breathing, a gentle pattering of what he soon realised was raindrops. Raindrops against cement, the wind blowing droplets into their cell from the barred up window every so often.

"Great. Now it's raining," Arthur muttered.

Merlin's heart thumped against his chest forcefully, as if trying to remind him that it was still there. It had started out as a flutter beneath his skin at that first sound of thunder, but now it was growing more frantic. Like a trapped animal within a cage, it felt like his heart was trying to either find an exit through his mouth or dive deeper into his stomach.

The crack of thunder that split the silence seconds later was a surprise he hadn't expected. He jumped before he even blinked, felt Arthur do the same and stir uneasily next to him.

"There's the storm we were promised," Arthur muttered. "If it gets too bad, they might call off the search..."

Merlin tried to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth. "You're their King. They won't call it off even if the end of days was upon them."

Arthur seemed to weigh that for a moment before shrugging. "At any rate, there's nothing we can do. At least we have shelter, never-mind that it's filthy." He said the last part to himself, although Merlin was inclined to agree. He'd been in worse places, but this wasn't one of his favourites, either.

"Yeah," he murmured, closing his eyes tightly at the consequent flash of lightning that lit the cell, even through the small window.

"No, seriously, Merlin, what is wrong with you?" Arthur demanded. "The last time I've heard you so quiet was our excursion through the Valley of Fallen Kings. You don't even get this quiet when I _order_ you to be quiet. What's wrong?"

Merlin lifted his shoulders in a shrug. "Nothing."

"Well, now I _know_ something's wrong."

Merlin opened his eyes again, plastering on a smile and looking towards Arthur. "Nothing. It's nothing." Thunder echoed throughout the town and Merlin flinched reflexively; he saw, literally _saw_ , the comprehension dawn on Arthur's face.

"Wait." Arthur stopped, looking at him intently before laughing. "Are you... are you _actually_ _afraid_ of _thunderstorms_?"

Merlin turned away, wrapping his arms around his knees.

"Merlin?" If Merlin ever thought that Arthur didn't have a sense of humour, he clearly did; he was using it to laugh at his expense. "You _are_ , aren't you?"

"I think it's a perfectly acceptable thing to be scared of," Merlin muttered, shivering.

"Yeah, Merlin." Arthur clapped his hand onto Merlin's shoulder. "Perfectly acceptable." He leaned over. "For a three year old."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Go ahead. Laugh at me."

"Oh, I am, Merlin. I am." Arthur sighed and, still grinning, slumped back against the wall. "Just when I thought the day was a total failure, I find out this particularly stunning piece of information."

Merlin sighed with overwhelming patience, resisting the urge to either hit him or use magic to turn his hair into snakes. "I'm glad that you can find humour at my expense, sire. That's what I'm here for," he said sarcastically.

"Indeed." Lightning illuminated the grin on Arthur's face before Merlin turned away again.

It wasn't as though there weren't things that he had seen that he had far more reason to fear. He'd faced trolls and dragons and enemy kingdoms. But there was just something wholly unnatural about... well, thunderstorms. It just... that noise? That light? The sky wasn't meant to do that. So sue him if that was the kid version of why people didn't like thunderstorms, but they unsettled him.

The most powerful warlock to walk the earth couldn't begin to stand up to the power of earth's most unpredictable terror.

He flinched as thunder cracked again. It helped somewhat when Arthur jumped again, although Merlin guessed his reasoning was probably more shock factor than fear. But, on the same thread, it was lessened by the fact the he couldn't stop shivering and it was upsetting his stomach. He could think of several other places he would rather be right now, rather than holed up in a cell with Arthur in the middle of a thunderstorm.

"... Are you _honestly_ shaking right now, Merlin?"

"No."

"You _are_." Arthur laughed shortly, stopping when thunder crashed again. Merlin jumped. Arthur didn't. "Merlin," Arthur chastised. "It's just a thunderstorm."

Merlin pressed his forehead against his knees, feeling Arthur's shoulder press against his. He could practically feel his eyes on him, too.

"Merlin, you're shaking so hard that you're making _me_ shake."

"Sorry," Merlin muttered, without real apology.

Arthur sighed heavily, but Merlin didn't look up. "Merlin. Look, just... calm down."

There was something almost like tenderness in Arthur's voice, which had Merlin just about to raise his head to see if he was messing with him, when the storm flared up again and thunder cracked. Something suspiciously close to a whimper lodged itself in Merlin's throat, catching him somewhere in between panicking to breathe and wanting to throw up, as he twisted around closer to Arthur without being entirely willing of doing it.

" _Merlin_."

"I can't help it, can I?" Merlin muttered. His mind was demanding that he move away from Arthur, to turn away from him, but his body wasn't complying. What he wouldn't give for a blanket to hide under right now... instead he had Arthur. Not _exactly_ cuddle material.

Arthur sighed again. "You know," he said slowly, "that there's a story behind thunderstorms."

Merlin pried his eyes open slightly, just in time to see lightning flash. The wind had picked up outside; the rain was pounding mercilessly against the cement outside.

"The story of Odin and Thor. Have you heard it?"

Merlin was about to say _of course I have. Everybody has._ but Arthur cut him off before he could answer.

"Of course you haven't. You're just a simple servant. Why would you know?" Arthur said absently. "I'm sure that you know that Thor is Odin's son. Well, I would assume you know that, anyway. Odin was the ruler of many things. People cannot say Odin's name without relating him to one thing or another. There is _really_ no one thing that defines Odin. Although, he was well-taught with poetry, the legends say. I'd say you'd like him, Merlin. But, one of the other things that Odin is known for: the main thing he was known for? That thing... was magic."

"Soon, Odin had a son. That was Thor. He was a mighty god of thunder and lightning. It's also said that he had a bit of a temper. Well, putting a sorcerer together with someone who had control over elements such as thunder and lightning... they had clashes. Like a teenage child with his parents. They fought... and that's where thunderstorms came from."

"It's said that the thunder itself comes from Thor, the loud bellowing that comes from their argument. The lightning is actually the flash of light from Odin's staff as he rebukes his son. The rain comes from the tears shed by both father and son and the wind is from the retreating feet when Thor would be put in his place and turned away."

"Even today, children are taught that when the weather is unappealing, it is because there's strife between two gods, between a father and son. That's why children should always obey and respect their parents. The consequences can be messy for others around them."

Arthur trailed off. "Anyway, that's the childhood folklore. You should remember that story, Merlin," he said, bumping his shoulder. "It might help your fear of thunderstorms. It might also teach you to respect me better, you know."

Merlin laughed before he could stop himself. He noticed, in that instance, the thunder that rumbled was further away. He realised, with a start, that he had been so focussed on Arthur's telling of the legend of Odin and Thor, decidedly different than what Merlin had expected, actually, that he hadn't noticed the storm moving away.

"Oi, what are you laughing at?"

Merlin raised his head slightly. "... Are you going to smite me if I don't respect you?" he asked slowly.

Arthur looked at him pointedly. "I wouldn't test me, Merlin."

Merlin grinned weakly. "Who would keep you entertained if I didn't...?"

Arthur huffed, his lips twisting into a small smile. "That's true. There is something about you... it's entirely cringe-worthy, but somehow still amusing."

Merlin laughed, straightening up a bit. He felt like he ought to be saying _thanks_ or something, but figured that would only set Arthur off into making fun of him again. And while Merlin truly didn't care about that, it was... just a little embarrassing.

So, he didn't say thank you, but he thought that that was alright. Because there would come a time where he would be able to say it without both of them locked up in dungeon, where it wouldn't be specifically about the thunderstorm but a lot of things combined, where he could pay him back for it when they were safe, or more safe, or maybe even in more danger than now. They worked best without words, Merlin realised sometimes, and it was easier to smooth it over than let it fester.

"Go to sleep, Merlin. I'll take first watch," Arthur said shortly.

_First watch?_ Merlin's mind echoed. Given they were in the dungeons, the most Arthur could look out for was someone coming for them. But he didn't argue, for once, because he was exhausted from riding and exhausted from scouting and exhausted from being taken hostage and, on top of all of that, he was mentally drained from the thunderstorm that had rolled through.

"Wake me if anything changes," he murmured, moving away slightly to settle down for a kip. His dreams were a mixture of modern and folklore, where Arthur was Thor and he was Odin himself, and magic reigned free with a few rows but mostly general agreement between them both.

 

**Author's Note:**

> (I'm not technically sure if Odin and Thor would have been recognised by the people of Camelot... I'm rubbish with mythology, but I wanted to do those two. Booksmarts, ignore it if it's wrong.)
> 
> I don't own _Merlin_. Thanks for reading!


End file.
